L is for
by celticvampriss
Summary: In episode 2x19, the fish tank never broke. This is my version of events and how they are altered because of it. A continuation of the "Throw Pillows" one shot. Follows the canon plot as a frame, but expect surprises. Nick's POV. Ness pairing.
1. Throw Pillows

**A/N: This story started as a one-shot idea, but I am not turning into a multichapter story. I would call it a parallel universe type deal. The events of episode 2x19 have been altered and that has now changed the events for the rest of the season. This will be from Nick's POV. Hope you enjoy it. I plan to mess around a lot with the canon plot while still using it as a basic frame for this story. So expect some differences. The full official title is below. It's a play on Nick's Zombie Novel title and I thought it would be funny. It read "Nick Miller" to me.  
**

**L IS FOR...  
(L IS FOR I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS BUT I L0-LIKE IT. THIS. YOU. IT. WHATEVER.)**

**Throw Pillows**

As the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Nick rushed inside before jamming his finger onto the number four. Whatever was waiting in the loft, he had no doubt it was his fault. Cause he was an idiot.

Even though he'd been so sure. Super sure. Like, almost 98% sure. She did not want to pursue anything. That's what he read. Mabye he needed to check out a damn book every once in awhile because apparently, he'd been wrong. Or at least, possibly mistaken. Whatever. The basic point was that he had let his boss happen to get over Jess, get past that stupid move of kissing her. Which was obviously the worst decision he could have made. Cause when the option presented itself and Jess had become a thing that could happen, maybe, he came running.

The elevator opened and he jogged to the front door. He was sure she would be here. Somewhere. He was about to start his search when he saw her on the kitchen counter, head bent over a pint of ice cream. Damn and it was strawberry too. Strawberry was the flavor for guy stuff. She always ate strawberry ice cream from the carton when boys made her upset. And it wasn't creepy or weird that he knew that.

"Hi." She said, but her tone was less than pleased.

He meandered toward her, scratching at his ear and letting his hand fall like a dead weight to his side. She was barely looking at him, and as crazy as it sounded, he couldn't blame her.

"Well. I've got some explaining to do-"

"Shut up." He shut his mouth. She was still picking at her ice cream when she smiled in a way that made him sad.

"You know, I'm really happy her name is Shane." He looked away. "Who's next? Cody." She chuckled but it wasn't out of humor. "Tex. The sheriff." Yeah, okay. He may not owe her anything, but he still felt like he deserved her derision. She set her ice cream down and pushed past him. But that wasn't it. That wasn't how she was walking out of this. It may have been all his fault, but that didn't mean she had nothing to own up to.

"Hey, Jess." He turned as she walked, meeting her eyes when she stopped to listen. There wasn't a way to undo what he was about to say. He might come to regret it...but she had said it first. Damn it, Jess had brought it up first. Whether she knew it or not didn't make a damn bit of difference. He pushed on, "Last night, when you were on pills...you said you want me-"

"Psh. Shut up." She waved him off, but he wasn't done. He'd started talking and now he was going to finish it. He'd been turning this whole situation over in his head for weeks and then she comes out and announces that she wants to sleep with him. He was going to get an answer, whatever she chose would be fine. Though choosing to sleep with him would have been more fine than choosing not to.

"You had your hand in my pocket..."

"No I didn't." She scoffed, but he didn't let her derail him.

"...You said this little piggy wants to go to the market." Ridiculous then. Ridiculous now. More so cause he was saying it and he wasn't cute.

"Shut _up_, Nick."

No way in hell. "If it's something you were just saying, that's fine. That's cool. We'll move on and not talk about it. But it _is _something that I've thought a lot about. But you were never clear about that so there were other options...and this little piggy ran around to different markets, but he didn't know-"

"What are you talking about?" She yelled, cutting him off before he could get deeper into the piggy metaphor.

"Do you want to have sex with me, yes or no?" There. It was out and now she had to answer him.

"Yes." What? "No. Yes. I mean, I did." What? _What_? "But that was before I knew you were-you were doing all that for your...boss."

"Forget the boss." He waved that whole topic away.

"Okay." She agreed harshly. "Well, I just, you know. I thought it was-it was nice. To see you actually trying...at something. So." She shrugged it off trying to appear nonchalant.

"_That's_ why were were more attracted to me?" He narrowed his eyes. "Wait a second."

"I thought it was attractive that you were trying." She repeated, but he was focused on her confession. Cause that was so unlike Jess, suddenly interested because he was ambitious?

"You're a freaking gold digger, Jess."

"What?" She scoffed, gesturing with her hands.

"I think that's what you just said." He confirmed, feeling a bit put out because if there was something he didn't have a lot of, it was gold. Which obviously meant she was barking up the wrong tree. Which meant that her attraction to him would probably fade once he disappointed her. Cause he would.

"If I were a gold digger, do you think I'd be interested in _you_?" Her hands were moving wildly, her blue eyes so bright and passionate. And she was exactly right. If money/power was really her thing, then she would not be interested in him. No matter how many cool ideas he had for the bar or how many loads of laundry he did. "I would be the worst gold digger in the world." She finished dramatically.

He smirked, stepping toward her. "You're a freaking gold digger." Now he was just trying to see more of that fire in her eyes. Rile her up so her pale cheeks flushed. Cause she was hot when she was pissed.

"No I'm not, Nick." She was taking this accusation so damn seriously. Her arms were crossed and her hip thrust out.

"I'm so disappointed in you." He tried to keep a straight face, but he was smiling. She was hating this and he didn't know why he always found it so thrilling to push her further.

"Shut up." She frowned, taking a step toward him. "I'm not a gold digger."

His eyes fell once to her lips, a bit pouty from his teasing, and then to her eyes. "Then prove it." He let his challenge hang there, because it was almost the same as admitting she was right. The way she shuffled forward, her head tilted, he knew that meant proving it by kissing him. The guy with the 250 credit score. With no gold to speak of. And even less ambition. She _would _have to be the worst gold digger to find him appealing.

Her hand landed lightly on his shoulder as she leaned up to kiss him. Shit, this had been a mistake. Once her soft mouth hit him that primal part of him feasted on his weaknesses. Kissing her shutout reason and rationality and brought out this starved animal that wanted her possessively. He walked her backwards, leaning up into the kiss as he grabbed at her and her tiny hands clawed at him. He backed her further, their mouths breaking apart and realigning. The audible sound of pleasure that wafted from her mouth had him groaning into her lips as he took her mouth from different angles, his hands never stopping.

"Ow, my jaw." She cradled her cheek, wincing.

"Then move your damn head." He snapped, trying to get her to hold still as she wiggled in his hands.

"Then kiss me like a man." She demanded, sending his thoughts to all kinds of lusty, rough, places. He squeezed her barely-there ass and lifted her from the ground, swinging her sideways to take her like a man right on the kitchen table. Then her thigh had crushed his injured hand and the searing pain made him stop.

"Damn it." He shook his hand out, waiting for the stinging to stop.

"What's wrong with your hand?" She accused, like she was blaming him for having an injured hand. When that wasn't the case. He was responsible for her injured chin. _She _was the one who burned his hand.

"I burnt it in your damn soup." He snapped fiercely.

"Well, who burns their hand in soup?" Her hands were everywhere and he grabbed them, holding them down.

"I do." He replied just as harshly as he leaned in for another kiss, but she squirmed and feebly hit him in the shoulder.

"You're a mess." She accused, making his blood boil, but in the same way it does when really turned on.

"You're so annoying with your little shorts." He couldn't get his hands on her wiggling, pounding little fists. He didn't know if they were fighting to get away from each other or to devour each other.

"Why are you so angry_ all the time_?"

"Oh, just shut up." He pulled away from her. "Just shut up and take off your clothes right now, I mean it. Take your clothes off." He ordered and then he swept the clutter from the table. He could hear her still talking. Why the hell was she talking?

"You're just chaotic, everywhere you go!" She pulled her jacket off, letting it fall to the floor.

"Stop talking." He was yelling, but come _on_. Did she even know what she was saying any more? He sure as hell didn't know what she was saying anymore. "This is not the time to talk. This is the stupidest time to talk." He let the tools fall to ground as he approached her, angry that she had only taken off her jacket. "And you're taking too damn long."

He hooked a finger in her blouse, drawing it down and popping out buttons as he went. The first button went flying and he looked into her eyes with the expectation of being scolded. He didn't actually stop though, finding that having her shirt off was worth her scorn, but she allowed it. In the end, only a few snapped off and disappeared into the darkness. Once he was finished he pushed her shirt open, gazing down at porcelain skin and realizing that now he'd never complain about all her girly smelling bottles in the bathroom again. Cause whatever it was, it was doing a fantastic job.

"See? _See_? You just come in here. Call _me _a gold digger." Her fingers snagged the front of his jeans and she was pulling them open. "Destroy _my _blouse. Three buttons popping off cause of your damn man hands."

"Oh, like you can't just sew on another one in two seconds. You got all that yarn I'm not supposed to touch-" He finally found the zipper to her skirt and as he yanked it down, the whole garment fell to her ankles. God bless skirts.

"You don't sew buttons with yarn." She snapped, throwing her hands in the air. Yarn. String. What was the difference? "How do you _not _know that? It doesn't even make any sense."

"I'm sorry I don't know how to sew damn buttons. Jessica. I'm not the guy that sews buttons. I'm the guy that fixes things with hammers. And nails. And chainsaws." A few more manly sounding tools popped into his head, but he didn't voice them. She was fuming.

"That's not the point, Nick." She started tugging on the front of his shirt, trying to remove it.

"Then what _is _the point, Jess? Please. Tell me. Cause I'm trying to take your clothes off and you're talking about your damn buttons." They stopped trying to undress each other and he hauled his shirt over his head before working on his pants. She began to shimmy out of her stockings, a task that looked more complicated than he'd ever want in an article of clothing.

Whatever point she had been trying to make, she lost it while they stood with bare skin showing and quite the nice view for him of Jess in a cute lace bra and underwear set. He let his eyes roam only once before meeting her gaze. They were both panting and they were both frowning. And with the change in pace, he found his head clear enough to bring up the question he didn't want her to answer.

"Are we doing this, Jess?"

She pursued her swollen lips, making his heart ache in dread as he waited the three seconds for her answer. "We are."

"You're sure? Cause...I wouldn't blame ya if you backed out." He licked his lips, resting his hands on his hips. He didn't take leaps. He never jumped. But in this case he didn't want to be the guy who watches the wallets. Whatever possibilities lay before him with Jess, he wanted to find out. But only if she was willing to lower her standards.

She took a tiny step forward, fixing him with pale blue eyes, tinted with passion as she absently twirled a strand of her hair in her finger. Somewhere during their rushed removing of clothes and tangled arms, the tight bun on her head had come undone and she must have pulled it out the rest of the way. Her hair flowed freely over her shoulders, gentle waves gliding over pale skin when she moved.

"Do _you _want to back out?"

He lowered his head, the sight of her played unfair games with his will. There were reasons to say no. The fact that taking this any further would be irreversible for one. Sighing he shook his head, frowning. "Nope." Damage done, he met her eyes again, still shaking his head. "No, Jess."

Forget how incredibly hot her tousled hair and dark eyes were in that moment, all because of him he congratulated silently, and forget how hard he wanted her, or how she'd been a thing on his mind for weeks. A possibility he'd kind of considered and then, since that fated day, really really considered. He'd said that he couldn't kiss her because of the stupid game. Then everyone had to throw it in his face, jerkass Sam even suggested he'd rather jump out a window than kiss her by saying those exact words. But that wasn't it at all. He hadn't wanted to kiss her when it meant nothing. When they were doing it because they were dared to. He'd wanted that first kiss with her to be more special than that. Cause she was special.

"Same here." She held his eyes as she walked forward. He felt the brush of her leg as she set a bare foot between his, her head craned so she could still see his face. Her hand lifted to his shoulder, now just skin on skin, then slid behind his head to pull him down. "So shut up and take me, Miller."

No more thinking. No more wondering. No more guessing. If that comment, her husky voice demanding him to take her, hadn't completely undone the last of his willpower, he was lying. He grabbed her firmly, dipping down as their lips slid and sucked. It was noisy. They were noisy. Each moan coaxing up her throat hit him like a brick, surging his blood into overdrive. He lifted her completely off the ground, almost breaking apart when she wrapped her legs around his waist, slick heated cotton rubbing against him just above the fabric of his boxers. He couldn't help it, the sensation had him groaning into her mouth as he carried her across the living room. He kicked open his door like a man, a damn romantic hero with a willing woman squirming in his arms. It felt good. Empowering. He was _not_ bad at sex, but Jess allowed him this control over her that just made him feel masculine and powerful. She wanted to be taken, not to dominate. Well, she was in for a fucking ride then.

He set a knee on the bed so he could lower her down, breaking from her mouth as her head hit the blankets. A possessive, kinda animal, pride hit him when he saw her. Prettily flushed face and hair fanning out around her lying on _his _bed. He shifted so he was on top of her, guiding one leg between her thighs, pressing lightly as he bent to claim her mouth. She hummed into the kiss, singing against him as another wave of desire constricted in his chest. He moved his hands everywhere, desperate to feel all that lovely skin. She was so soft it was like a damn joke. He pressed her into the mattress as he brought his uninjured hand around her back to work off the clasp of her bra. He'd had a bit of practice at that, but he'd never tell anyone that it was mostly with Winston in freshmen year and they were unhooking it from a pillow.

The bra hung loose against her skin and he slowed the pace so he could drag it off her with a finger, sliding it down her stomach until she wiggled her arms free. Then he tossed it behind his head and he was stunned into silence.

He was openly admiring the sight of her and it took him a second to notice anything else. Her eyes were down as she lifted her hand shyly, but he caught her wrist before she could cover herself.

"What?" He frowned, her insecurity unfathomable. "God, you're gorgeous, Jess. Why would you cover any of that up?" It occurred to him that he wasn't just being pervy when he said that. He'd meant the whole of Jess was beautiful. The whole of her just one gorgeous, blue eyed, weirdo.

"I..." She drew her lip into her mouth, chewing softly. He leaned down to kiss her lightly, trying to be gentle. He moved slowly, working his lips over her mouth purposefully. He ghosted his mouth along her jaw, careful not to hurt her. He continued down to her neck, admiring the sweet taste of her, the full impact of feminine scents clashing against him. A whimper rose from her throat and her back arched into him, making him smile proudly. Moving lower, he remained frustratingly slow, even for his own liking, until he could feel her breathing spike, her body squirm, and reading the signs that she was getting impatient. She drew in a sharp breath just as he stopped toying with her and began teasing her with more enthusiasm.

Her fingers wove through his hair, scratching him as he filled his mouth with, what he could easily admit, were exquisitely shaped boobs. And he _never _used words like exquisite. He was well focused and intent on her and what was driving her crazy. Then she wiggled that supple body and locked a leg behind his thigh to draw him in. Slowly grinding, nothing but thin cotton existing between them.

And his concentration faltered. His head fell to her side, resting on her arm as she continued to dance beneath him. He groaned into her skin, not at all like a man taking what he wanted, but more like a man about to beg her to stop toying with him. Jess halted with her hips, reaching down with two hands. One stopped at her waistline, working her underwear down, the other continued down until he could feel the flutter of fingers with complete clarity. He let out a low hiss when her finger slipped and brushed nothing but skin. He was way too involved for those touches to be anything but maddening.

She finally stopped to push him sideways, working her underwear down her legs. He made quick work of his own before deciding to take some control back. Nothing left to hold them back, every move had something brushing somewhere, but he tried to focus. He wasn't bad in bed. He wasn't some selfish guy that took what he wanted without consideration. She wasn't making it easy, clawing at him like she couldn't get him inside her fast enough. Okay, thinking like that was definitely not helping.

He reached down with his hand, unfortunately using his left but he had little choice, until he could feel wet heat against his palm. And it took him a few fevered heartbeats to get past the harsh demand that shook through him knowing just how ready she already was.

Half dazed, he began kissing her. Leaning into each move of his lips, the action more disjointed as he kept his main focus on his hand. He shifted his grip, drawing the length of his forefinger up and then down, but denying any sort of relief. She groaned, frustrated. Her hips followed his hand, but he didn't stop absently twirling his finger around and around.

Her nails caught him sharply as she drew them down his scalp. He jerked away from the sting impulsively, but he didn't stop. He smirked when she threw her head back, body arching. Watching her writhe beneath him was a pleasure in itself. He wasn't sure how much longer he could continue to tease her.

He winced audibly when she caught him by the ear, dragging him down to her mouth and growling. Her lips dove against his mouth with angry force until he got the hint. He moved his hand and brought their hips together as fast as he could move. Which might have appeared over eager, but he was beyond worrying about his male pride.

She let out a strangled moan and he fell onto her shoulder. Maybe he'd taken the teasing too far, he was so close already and he needed a second before moving inside her finished him completely. He lifted his head from her shoulder, propping himself on his arms. Then started at a slow, testing the feel, pace. She was kissing him again, reaching up for his head and planting kiss after kiss until the disjointed pace had to stop. She fell back to the bed, allowing for more controlled momentum to build. He'd been watching her at first, her head twisting and her arms flailing in the covers, her hands pulling up bunches of blankets in strangled fists. Low curses and praises and a few hushed cries of his name rose up from her mouth, but his concentration was completely consumed with the feel of her, the motions. Sweat began to slick their skin as she drew her nails down her face.

"God, Nick." Her words were a whisper to him and then her muscles clenched, her whispered words rising to a resounding, "OhGodohGodohGod."

And not two seconds later he was chasing her with a harsh groan of "fuck" before he fell next to her.

For a while, he couldn't hear anything but heavy breathing. They were both on their backs, lying next to each other. Then he heard the shuffle of her head through the blankets as she turned to face him.

His lips quirked at the corner as he admired his work on her swollen red lips and husky blue eyes and even the tangled strands of hair. She returned the smile, laughing lightly.

Her laughing made him want to laugh and he turned to the ceiling then back to her before smiling fully. "That was..."

"Yeah." She nodded.

"Yeah." He agreed completely. A few more minutes of a comfortable silence wafted over them.

He knew he'd just crossed a line with her. With their friendship. And that wasn't something he took lightly. But maybe he was still riding some weird sex high, because he didn't think it was a mistake. He wasn't sure about her stance on this whole mess, but he was pretty sure he, at least, wanted something. Wanted something serious. Cause he would have been kidding himself if he tried to believe his feelings for her weren't serious. This was Jess and it had felt right. Good. _So _good.

She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. He leaned up on his elbow, watching her with increasing dread. What the hell? She looked over the floor like she was trying to find her clothes. Reason failed him as he watched what looked like a girl about to gather her clothes so she could head out with a "thanks" called over her shoulder. Damn it, he wasn't one of those guys, but his confidence was slowly shattering as he jumped to all the conclusions he could. He hefted blame and silent accusations at himself. _Good job, Miller. You've obviously screwed something up or she wouldn't be leaving right after what was arguably the best damn sex of your life. Nice work, buddy. Screwed up the best thing you've ever-_

Jess tossed a pair of his boxers to him from the basket on his desk. He caught them, his frown lessening when she pulled one of his shirts over her head. She fluffed out her hair before gesturing to him. "Put those on and come help me find our clothes." She stopped at the door, pressing her ear to it before easing it open.

He moved fast, working each leg through the shorts as he walked to the door. Okay, so he'd jumped to conclusions. The lesson here was to not voice his doubt out loud before he knew what was happening. If she had heard what he was thinking, he might have really messed something up.

"Ready?" She whispered.

"Let's go." He tip-toed after her, grateful that all the lights were off. The light from Schmidt's stupid fish tank was enough to see by. It took a few minutes of searching before they were racing back to his room. Jess dropped her armful of clothes at her feet before sauntering to his bed.

Nick looked down at the mess, looked at her, then bent down and began to pick up the clothes and put them in the basket. Part of him truly did want to start keeping things together, to be that guy that picked up laundry and could see his floor, who knew what color the carpet was. The other part of him knew that Jess found that stuff hot and he'd be an idiot not to exploit that.

Her mouth hung open as her eyes followed him to the bed.

"Really?" Her voice was deadpan, her eyes eating him.

"What?" He smiled, trying to hold in laughter. "What? I'm just trying to keep the floor clean. Like a responsible adult."

She locked her jaw and it was so damn cute.

"What, Jess?" He laughed despite himself. "You think it's _hot _that I picked up the laundry?"

Her straight face faltered and she gave in to a smile, chuckling. "It's not going to work forever, you know. Soon this whole ambition, taking care of yourself thing, will become normal."

He leaned onto his arm, inching toward her. He kept his face serious. "Jess. I'm..." He looked her straight in those beautiful blue eyes, hiding any trace of humor. "...I feel like I need to be honest right now. And I have to tell you...I'm about to make this bed." He set his hand down on the mattress for emphasis. "Try-try not to get too excited." A smile broke through when she pushed his head away. "I'm just giving you fair warning. I don't want any funny business happening when I'm just trying to make the bed." He fell onto his side, laughing even as she smothered his face with a pillow.

"You're so hilarious, Nick.."

He shifted, moving the pillow so he could see her again. "No, but seriously. I've got to straighten these blankets."

Jess threw her hands in the air as she kicked her legs over the side. She helped him pick out the pillows and toss them to the floor, but when she went to fix the sheet he stopped her.

"Hey. Just sit back and enjoy the show. Alright?" She crossed her arms, but he was still smiling.

"Fine." He wasn't watching her as he went to work. Making a bit of a display out of shaking out sheets and laying them out flat. He greatly exaggerated the smoothing of the first sheet, poking fun at her weird turn on by meticulously chasing every fold. He finished, noting the far away gleam in her eyes with satisfaction. Adding lust and sexuality to their already playful banter, he had to admit it was a whole new welcomed experience. He crossed to her side of the bed, sweeping his arm out after throwing the blanket back.

"Oh. How chivalrous." She had a perky note to her voice, falling into her habit of using one of her silly accents or impressions.

"Well, you know, a gentleman always pulls out the covers for a lady." He replied with a perfect mimic of her chosen accent. He didn't know why this had become a thing, the voices and cutesy impressions, but he usually indulged her.

"Oo, darling, you flatter me." She added more emphasis to her voice, playing up the dramatic bit. "I'm blushing. Truly. But after all that hot sex up in here, I can't really call myself a lady. If ya know what I mean." She nudged him with her elbow, but his attention wasn't on keeping in character.

He raised an eyebrow, his voice normal. "All that hot sex, huh?"

Jess broke with the voices, looking at him as she chuckled lightly. "Um, yeah. It was _kinda _amazing, if I'm putting it mildly." She sang the word 'kinda' and he wasn't sure she even realized it.

"Oh, so it was hot _and _amazing?"

"What can I say, Miller, you know how to treat a girl to a good time." She laughed again, smacking her hand down on the comforter lightly.

"You're absolutely nuts." He was smiling, because he truly meant it, but he also really really didn't care. Cause she was nuts in the way that made her endearing and cute. She was nuts in a way that sometimes made him hot, if he was being honest. Yes. Jess Day, cute girly little ball of sunshine was all kinds of hot and enticing. And he was pretty powerless to deny it. "You are absolutely nuts, but that's okay."

She hesitated. "It is?"

"You know, if you were anyone else I would say no. But with you, I dunno. It just works. Ya wear crazy well, Jess." He stood up and crawled up next to her, working his way under the covers.

"Nick?"

"Mm, yeah?" He hummed, lying on his arm before turning to look at her from his pillow. He was so content he couldn't think of anything to complain about. Hell, he couldn't even find anything in himself to complain about in that moment.

"You know you're kind of nuts, too." She looked down at him. "I mean, you're kind of a hot mess."

He shrugged, looking away. Even as she said it worry began to set in. He was a hot mess. Damn crazy mess that didn't deserve her. Shit. "And...is that okay?"

"On anyone else, definitely not." She threw his words back at him, washing the doubt away with a small smirk. It was that easy. One look and knowing she was just being playful and his anxiety quelled. She put a finger to her chin, considering. "On you...hm." She pretended to weigh her options, making a show of it. "Okay. I guess on you it works or whatever lame thing you said like two minutes ago."

"Yeah?" He smiled.

"Yeah." She snuggled down beside him, lying so she could face him. "Goodnight, Nick."

"'Night, Jess." He let a few seconds pass. "It wasn't lame. What I said."

"No, it wasn't lame. It was sweet." She agreed. She scooted closer and snuggled into his side, making him pause before hooking his arm around her..

"You're damn right it was sweet." He trailed off, satisfied that his point had been made.

"Feel better?"

"Yes I do, Jess." He didn't know why he said it so formally, just that talking to her could bring that out of him.

"Goodnight, Nick." He could hear the smile in her voice and his grin grew. Yeah, he didn't know how he'd make this work. Cause he was so good at breaking things. And this thing with her, he was thinking long term. Jess made him want to own things that worked, things that he bought at the store new. Things like...decorations or throw pillows. Even though throw pillows were so dumb, why spend money on half a pillow? You just take your own pillow, from the bedroom, and you put it on the couch. It was already comfy, it wouldn't be covered in crazy patterns, and you wouldn't have to share. But if Jess were to pick one out he'd buy it for her. He'd buy her a the dumb throw pillow and that _meant _something. He'd argue about it first, but he'd buy it for her eventually. Even if it was the next day or while she slept so he could save face and keep his stubborn pride intact. Jessica Day would get her damn pillow.

"'Night. Jess." He'd find some way to ruin this eventually. But for now, he was good with her at his side, falling asleep and pondering the eventuality of throw pillows. And it was good. It all felt good. Right, in a cosmic sort of way. This was happening. His eyes fell closed. Maybe he'd get a himself some new hangers so he could hang his shirts to keep them nice. _ Alright, settle down there, Miller, you're not marrying her._ His head fell sideways, supporting his cheek on the top of her head. _I'm drawing the line at coasters. _


	2. Feels Like Nothing

**A/N: Events are going to play out in tangent with the canon plot. However, I am tweaking everything and throwing the occasional spin in there. So don't expect everything to go according to the show. My events have changed things. I am going to attempt to write this as true to character and my events as possible. Thanks for reading. **

**Feels Like Nothing**

Sunlight woke Nick from sleep. Sunlight. Nick. The sun was rising and it had actually motivated him to open his eyes. He wore a smile like he was a morning person or something crazy like that. He felt like he always imagined the Cleavers would when the dawn was shining through the window. Bring on the damn bird songs, cause he was feeling like eating a balanced breakfast, easily the worst meal of the day.

Turning his head, Nick propped himself on one arm. That was the reason right there. One pale shoulder attached to long, dark flowing hair, girly hair, Jess's hair. The contrast was particularly striking in the glow of sunlight. He swallowed, as some deep rooted emotions began to settle in his stomach. Tender, soft feelings. Distinctly romantic feelings. He looked away from her shoulder, considering the swell of…contentment? Pride? Affection. He wasn't really good at assigning names to these types of things. What was weird was that he was super chill about it. No panic or rapid paced confusion. His brain didn't give a fuck about whatever was going on in the emotions department.

Jess stirred, sighing and then twisting under the covers. Her eyes were narrowed against the sun. He probably should have felt like a major creep for staring, but he didn't care.

"Hey." He was grinning, he could feel it.

"Hey, yourself." She smirked, stretching out her arms. She was still in just his t-shirt from their trek to gather their clothes the night before. He couldn't pinpoint why a men found it arousing when women wore their clothes. If asked, he couldn't tell ya. But he definitely agreed.

They both turned to the door when they heard footsteps in the hallway followed by the heavy door to the bathroom swinging on its hinges. Nick's grin fell somewhat, not liking the splash of reality over his good mood.

Their eyes moved from the door to each other, waiting for the other to speak first. Jess's patience broke first.

"Do we care that they know or do we…" She paused, searching his eyes. "Do we play it cool?"

"I, uh…" He sighed. "Honestly, I don't think it's possible to hide it if we wanted to. You saw how I caved with Schmidt before. He'll break me Jess. He'll know." Nick's voice lowered into a scared whisper. "_He'll smell it_."

Jess rolled her eyes, looking to the ceiling. "Okay. First of all? I don't think he can really smell…_it_. Alright? I'm calling BS on that one. And second, I think it's probably going to be more…helpful to everyone if we decide what this is…like, _before_ they ask questions. You know, get the same page going."

"Yeah. Of course. Obviously. Cause, you know, that makes sense." He really needed to stop talking. But his mouth just kept moving. He was nervous. Nervous and suddenly very _very_ warm. He'd been blissfully happy two seconds ago, now a panic was starting to set in.

"So. What is this?"

"Well…I was hoping…you'd tell…me…" He trailed off vaguely, leaving as much space as possible for her to jump in at any time. Any time. Really, just, use some words, Jess. His head was static.

"Okay, well. I guess. For me…" She frowned, then tilted her head, then opened her mouth. Closed it. Gestured with her hands. Let her hands rest on the blankets. "I...hm." He cringed. This was the most ungraceful discussion he'd ever had. And he'd talked to a cactus piss drunk before.

They both sighed in relief when the buzz of his phone echoed throughout the room. Nick reached for it, not finding it on the nightstand like usual. He reached to the floor for his pants, then remembered that he'd put all the clothes in the laundry basket and had to actually get up. Throwing clothes over his shoulder until he saw the backlight glow through his pocket, he fumbled to get the phone into his hand. The caller ID said it was his mother and he looked up at Jess with a significant frown.

"It's my mom." He stage whispered, pointing at the phone.

"Okay." Jess looked confused, now sitting up. "Answer it."

He froze, eyes going from the phone to the half naked girl in his bed. "I can't."

"What? Why?" She snapped, keeping her voice low. "Answer it."

"No." He shook his head. "I can't answer the phone with you here, it'll be too weird."

Jess threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "What're you twelve? She's not gonna know I'm here. Answer the phone, Nick."

"No." He snapped, and his phone went silent. "Ha. I'll call her back."

Jess pursed her lips until his phone immediately started to buzz in his hand again. "She's calling back. Answer the phone."

Nick looked at his hand. That was quick for a call back. His mom knew how early it was, right? Huh. "Jess, I can't. Not until you leave. I'm not gonna talk to my _mother_ while you're in my bed in nothing but _my_ shirt. It'll do things to my mind that I don't want happening when I'm talking to my mom. It's a line I can't cross, Jess. I've never crossed it and I won't start now. You can't make me." He whined a little, feeling the panic mount as the need to answer clashed with his aversion to the situation. "Please don't make me."

"Nick, I'm making you. This is silly. What if it's important?" Jess got up and pushed past him, scrounging through the laundry basket. "Here. I'm getting dressed." They were still whispering, hoping not to be heard. Jess pulled her skirt up over her hips and then held out her hands in a 'ta-da' gesture. "Better?"

Nick shrugged. "Eh. You're still wearing my shirt and that's incredibly hot. I can't be aroused when I'm talking to her. It's a weird I refuse to experience."

Jess made two fists, shaking them at him before search for her shirt. She threw his t-shirt to the ground and he barely noticed the phone had stopped ringing while her top half was naked in front of him. Her shirt was in place when his phone began buzzing a third time. Somehow, it seemed impatient this time. Like his phone was yelling at him for not picking up before.

Her blue eyes were wide and challenging as he looked to check the caller ID just in case. _Mom_. "Nick Miller. Answer that phone."

Frowning, he relented. The pressure of three rapid succession calls was too much and Jess was fully covered and not in his bed now.

"Hey. Yeah, ma. What's—" Words were crossing into his ear but they weren't registering. She was definitely crying and that had shut down the part of him that understood English for a second. Then he was walking away from Jess, trying to speak calmly so she could calm down so he could understand what she was saying. "Ma, just calm down. What's happened?" He quickly calculated his money situation, already planning out flights to get out there. He didn't even know what was wrong yet, but instinct took over. He was unburying his laptop on his desk when she let out a deep breath and her words hit him clearly. "Wh-wait. Wait." He closed his eyes, waving his free hand in the air for an all out stop. She repeated herself, breaking into a sob before she could finish. Nick was completely blank. Everything. Just, there was nothing. For a minute he stood there. His mother's sobs hitting him through the phone. His mother's sobs. "Ma, I'm on my way. Okay? I'll be there today. No, don't let Jamie…look, I'll be there as soon as I can. Alright? But I gotta go if I'm going to book a flight. Yes. I'll take care of it when I get there. Love you too." He clicked the phone shut and he stood over his desk, shoulders rising and falling slowly.

He heard a soft cough behind him and cringed. Jess had been standing right there this whole time. He felt guilty. She'd be worried after hearing only half the conversation. You know. Like. She'd think something really bad had happened.

"Uh…" He turned around, not quite meeting her eyes. "So my dad's dead."

"Oh my God." Jess reached for him, hesitantly.

"No, it's okay." He opened his arms for her, because a hug would feel really nice right then.

She flew into him, squeezing firmly. He lowered his arms around her, taking some comfort from the feel of her so solidly there and real. His cheek brushed her hair, soft on his cheek. Nick wasn't a hugger by nature, but it felt good so he let it go. Jess sniffed against his shirt, drawing part of a smile from him. She was managing to cry and she only met the guy once. Nick couldn't find a single tear.

"Oh, Nick. I'm so sorry. If there's anything you need…" She lifted her head from his chest, eyes red. She cared so much. How did she care so much about everything?

"Uh, yeah. I-um. I gotta look into some flights to Chicago…so uh…" He wasn't asking her to come with him. He didn't know if that was something that he could right then. But the offer was there, anyway. And he hoped she took it.

"I'll go pack." She held his eyes, a fondness there that he'd always taken for granted. "And whatever you need me to do, just ask. Whatever you want."

"Okay. I get it. Thanks, Jess." He could see her worry now. Was he handling this too well? To be honest, he really wasn't handling anything. He just needed to get to Chicago before hell broke loose and Jamie messed something up. She slipped away from him, drawing all the heat with her. Tip toeing, Jess hesitated at the door. He'd forgotten they'd been trying to decide what to do about their undefined status. He let her make that call, watching as she checked up and down the hall before sprinting to her room.

Nick opened his laptop and then watched it boot up. Impatient, he left his room and found Schmidt and Winston in the kitchen. Winston would want to know. Walt had been more of a dad to him than Nick anyway.

Schmidt stopped talking, frowning as Nick approached the kitchen island.

"Why do you look like your dog just died?" Schmidt was frowning, looking him up and down. Nick almost laughed at the absurdity of things that came out of Schmidt's mouth.

"Close." Nick started, but his humor was coming from a dark place right then. "It's actually my dad that's dead."

"What?" Winston spoke first, voice high. Nick regretted the blunt delivery now. Or, it wasn't even blunt it was kinda a horrible play on words about a pretty gruesome topic. Winston looked upset, though. He looked sad. Damn it, Nick wasn't sad.

"Yeah, Winston. He had a heart attack or…" Nick swallowed. "I'm heading home, though. Funeral stuff."

Winston's face contorted in an ugly sob. Schmidt had crossed the kitchen and threw his arms around Nick's neck. On an unrelated note, this hug did not feel as good as Jess's. Nope this was as awkward and unwelcomed as 98 % of Schmidt's hugs.

"I'm here for you, man. Love you. Stay strong." Schmidt kissed the side of Nick's face and he grimaced, pushing him away. When he finally pried himself free, Winston was crashing against him.

"Oh man, Nick. What're we gonna do?" Winston's face was pressing into Nick's shoulder. Also, this was another hug that was making Nick more uncomfortable than comforted. "What're we gonna do, man?"

"Well, Winston. I'm going to get on a plane to Chicago to help my grieving mother with my father's funeral." Nick replied, holding out his arms to keep the hug from developing.

"So this is really happening?" Winston pulled away, shaking his head.

"Yeah. It's happening." Nick's tone was stern. He didn't know what was happening, but he was fluctuating pretty severely between dark amusement and irritation. Not sadness though. He was pretty empty in the sadness part of everything.

Schmidt moved into their space, but didn't try hugging again. "We wish you all the best, Nick. Send my condolences to your family."

Winston turned with a glare. "You're coming to Chicago."

"Am…am I?" Schmidt smiled, clearly uncomfortable. "I didn't want to intrude. It's rude to invite yourself. Damn it, okay. Don't twist my arm. I'm coming. For Nick. My best friend. I have to be there, obviously." He turned on his heel and disappeared into his room.

Winston sniffed, dabbing at his eye with his finger. "Seriously, though. You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Nick replied, but he honestly didn't know what he was.

"It's okay to be sad, Nick. He was your father—"

"I said I'm fine." Nick cleared his throat, hands in his pockets. He stood for a second before retreating back to his room. He booked a flight that he couldn't afford. Threw some clothes into a duffel bag and pulled his winter coat from the top of his closet. He never needed it in LA. A part of him didn't know why he kept the damn thing. He ran his hand over the duck taped patches on the arms. Last time he wore that coat he'd been back home for the holidays. Walt hadn't been there. He'd been out of town. Jamie had been openly disappointed, but mostly defensive. But his mother had cooked Christmas dinner in silence. She set a plate at the head of the table and no one brought it up. The empty chair at the end of the table, like he was already a ghost even then. No one mentioned that he wasn't fucking there. So you know what? Nick wasn't sad. He was sad for his mom, cause she was obviously hurting, but that was it. There was no sadness inside. None. He threw his coat into the duffel bag and headed for the door.

All three of his roommates were already packed, waiting in shoes and coats to leave.

"I think we've all got the same flight." Jess said, stepping forward. "At 6:40."

"Yeah." He agreed, a bit touched. He shook the sentimentality away. He didn't want to feel good, just then. He wanted to stew in his anger. "Yeah, I'm on the same one." They loaded their suitcases into Winston's car and Nick watched LA through the window. He didn't feel like talking, since he knew what they'd want to talk about. He tried not to be annoyed by it. Jess was next to him in the back seat. She didn't try to console him or offer words of naïve advice, but he could feel the press of her thigh against his leg. Her foot hooking around him at the ankle. He couldn't explain why her simple offering was working for him, when no one else's did. He couldn't explain a lot of things right then. But Jess's thigh and foot pressed against him, that was making the ride okay. Now he just had to get through a four plane ride and the next two days without snapping. Easy.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, you guys probably knew where I was going with that phone situation. I hope it was a nice change from the show, though. Realistic and interesting enough that it was okay to read even though you knew what happened. Anyway, I hope to continue this through the end of season two. I probably won't go further than that, but we'll see how it goes. Thanks for reading.**


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